Demons and Diplomacy

Book 1: Ministry of Supernatural Affairs

by Megan Frampton

Genres: General Fiction; Romance; Fantasy Romance; Historical Romance; Victorian Romance; Paranormal Romance

Synopsis

A tantalizing pact between an ordinary woman and the silver-tongued son of the Devil is all that stands between Britain—and all hell breaking loose.

1851, London. All supernatural species have emerged from hiding, a result of The Great Revelation, led by Her Majesty, the vampiric Queen Victoria, and her dhamphir consort, Prince Albert.

Cora Hastings is the British government’s Species Ombudsman, a human tasked with keeping the peace between supernatural creatures. It’s run-of-the-mill work: enforcing the newly created shifting parameters, negotiating contracts between species, and generally making certain all Londoners are treated equally.

That is, until the Devil himself decides he wants to leave his hellish home and see the results of Prince Albert’s greatest accomplishment, the Great Exhibition. His arrival could upset the uneasy peace between creatures, and worse—he’s brought his son.

The Marquis of Hell is diabolically good-looking, unnaturally perceptive, and, well, a demon. Cora navigates her sinfully seductive diplomatic assignment as best she can, until she catches wind of a secret conspiracy set to come to fruition at the opening of the Great Exhibition. This leaves her with an impossible choice: Either Cora enters an unholy alliance with the Devil’s son, or she watches as her world is torn asunder….

Release date: August 25, 2026

Publisher: Berkley

Print pages: 352

Sample

One

The Devil plans to attend the Great Exhibition."

Lord Hennawi, my superior's superior, spoke in a measured tone, but I could see the unease roiling under his skin.

Or perhaps that was because Lord Hennawi was a djinn and had assumed a human shape, presumably to make me feel more comfortable. I didn't know the logistics of djinndom; all I knew was that they were made of smoke and fire, which explained the faintly toasty smell emanating from his side of the desk. Lord Hennawi himself was a regal gentleman, with dark skin and dark eyes. He wore an immaculate suit of fine wool and was toying with an intricately carved letter opener as we spoke.

That I was the only human in the room didn't bother me nearly as much as it had the first dozen or so times since getting the position of species ombudsman in Her Majesty's service seven months prior.

My direct superior, Mr. Connors, sat in the chair beside me, his tail twitching anxiously. Mr. Connors was a shugmonkey, a being comprised of dog and monkey, which meant his tail was quite reactive.

"The devil, you say?" Mr. Connors replied, making both men chuckle at the witticism.

We sat in Lord Hennawi's office, which was easily three times the size of my and Mr. Connors's own, with lush Oriental rugs, heavy mahogany furniture, and a model of a tree-"That," Mr. Connors had whispered while Lord Hennawi was ordering refreshments, "is for when he is in the body of a snake."

I leaned forward in my chair. "I am sorry to sound at a loss, but-there really and truly is a devil? Like with horns and a forked tail and such?"

Lord Hennawi and Mr. Connors turned to me with matching expressions, the kind of look one might bestow on a dim-witted child of whom one was fond but didn't expect much.

"Yes, there's a devil," Lord Hennawi said. "There is the Devil, in fact, the lord of the underworld, and apparently he is interested in seeing what Prince Albert is concocting for the Great Exhibition." He gave me a pointed glance. "That is where you come in, Miss Hastings."

A species ombudsman, a job created just after the Great Revelation, was a position held by a human-the least powerful creature in England-who, by nature of their powerlessness, was able to speak to every supernatural variety, therefore settling disputes among species. Most humans had initially balked at being relegated to the lowest level, but then Queen Victoria's announcement a few days later-that she was a vampire, though her husband, Prince Albert, was merely a dhampir-forced the general citizenry to accept what was inevitable.

The threat that one's queen could drain one of blood was quite an incentive to get in step with the paradigm shift.

"But why would he come here? The last I heard of him he had sworn off this realm entirely," Mr. Connors said. His expression was anxious, and his eyes were even larger than usual. "That was before the Revelation, however, and we all had to be quite discreet about his being here."

No wonder I hadn't known about it, what with being a mere human at the time. To be clear, I was still a mere human, but now I was an informed mere human.

Lord Hennawi's mouth thinned. "Yes. Apparently he has changed his mind after hearing about Queen Victoria-something the man does quite often." Changing his mind, I mean; I don't know how often he ponders our Queen. He made a noise of displeasure. "Likely he wants to ensure he is still regarded as the most fearsome creature in any land."

"He is a man, then?" I asked, willing to risk Lord Hennawi giving me that look again if it answered my questions.

Lord Hennawi tilted his head in thought. "He is not not a man, if that makes sense."

It didn't.

But I understood nonetheless.

"He is a force, he is a power, he is energy. He also," and then Lord Hennawi looked almost embarrassed, which I didn't know djinns could feel, "enjoys all the benefits of masculinity. Meaning," he rushed to say, "he has many offspring and hundreds more lovers, both current and past, of all types."

"Devilish indeed," I remarked, earning a smile from Lord Hennawi and a smothered cough from Mr. Connors. "So how are we to help?" I asked.

"Not we, Miss Hastings, but you. You will be ensuring his visit goes smoothly." Lord Hennawi nodded as though that would guarantee the truth of his statement.

"Me?" I asked in astonishment. "Aren't there diplomats or minor nobles or someone of higher stature who can handle him?"

Because the thought of interacting with the literal Devil was far more than I could imagine, even given the scope of my responsibilities.

Thus far I'd negotiated treaties between the merfolk at the docks and the selkies, sorted out a misunderstanding between two types of shifters (dragon shifters were not fond of snake shifters and vice versa), and designated Westminster as a no-magic zone, since that was where the Queen resided, as well as handled many other conflicts requiring careful diplomacy.

"There are," Lord Hennawi replied, "but we want to ensure that no one in our realm is offended by our giving the responsibility to someone of high enough importance that another highly important person might be offended."

"So," I said slowly, "because I am merely a government employee, and a human to boot, I am no threat?" I considered it, then met Lord Hennawi's gaze. "It does make a certain amount of sense, even if it is not the most complimentary judgment."

"We would not entrust you with this task, Miss Hastings, unless we had complete confidence in your ability."

Lord Hennawi said those words, but his expression was not that of a man-a djinn-who believed what he was saying. "And," he added, "it would cause an enormous diplomatic incident if there was any trouble while he was here, so you should be perfectly safe." I knew he meant that to be helpful, but-

"You mean the Devil won't harm me because he wishes to avoid an incident," I said flatly. Not because it would be the wrong thing to do, because he was the Devil; wrong things were what he was born to do. I'd have to rely on his sense of diplomacy to navigate this mission properly.

Still, it wasn't as though I could refuse. My duties as species ombudsman covered all the species that weren't human, and the Devil was most definitely not human.

"You are the best person suited for the position, Miss Hastings," Mr. Connors added.

He sounded as if he believed what he was saying, at least. Mr. Connors was a gentle manager, always making certain I wasn't overworking myself and fetching me an assortment of office supplies he thought I could use.

I had to think the latter was due to his canine roots.

If I proved myself in this task, I realized, proved the importance of the position to the government, perhaps I would finally be able to get enough of a budget so that there could be additional species ombudsmans (ombudsmen?) in other areas. Now, the local constabulary took care of any disputes, but since they were staffed by any number of species, there was no way to avoid claims of favoritism and bias if things went south. I was thus far the sole species ombudsman with my particular job description.

I had a grand vision of humanity solving disputes throughout the country, expanding to possibly the world, if we were all able to get along. Which was a very big if.

Not to mention that would mean a substantial promotion and possibly a raise in pay for me. Visions of white tea-the most expensive kind, available only at select shops-danced in my head.

Lord Hennawi cleared his throat. "He is here as a private citizen, so we will not be making the usual fanfare around his visit."

In other words, the government wished to keep the Devil's presence quiet so as not to unduly alarm the public. It made sense, given how unsettled the public was already-the Great Revelation was fairly fresh, after all. "So," I said, taking a deep breath, "when is the Devil arriving? And how long will he be staying?"

Lord Hennawi's expression turned pained. "We've just heard about it, and he-he arrives tomorrow. He'll leave after the Exhibition's opening, in a month's time."

I let out a squeak I was not proud of, then clamped my lips together in a tight line before speaking again. "Tomorrow. I see." And he'd be here for an entire month. "Well," I said, picking up my cane as I spoke, "I have a lot to prepare."

The first thing to do would be to brew an enormous pot of tea, since tea was known to put most things in perspective.

Or at the very least it would quell my nerves, which would have to be resolute in dealing with this latest assignment.


“Good afternoon, Miss Hastings.”



Mr. Connors adjusted his bowtie, which made him look like a very good dog indeed, and shifted his weight back and forth, his tail whipping in the air.

"Good afternoon, sir."

Today I wore the amulet that came with my position, which was filled with a mixture of sulfur, holy water, salt, and garlic. It was only to be used in case of absolute emergency and should neutralize any species long enough for me to make it to safety. Though I didn't know if that applied to the Devil. I also carried my cane, which was outfitted with a variety of implements, from a fearsomely sharp dagger to a tiny silver tea ball, since I never wanted to miss tea simply because there were no strainers available. The last item had been used often, but I had yet to have to withdraw any of the more dangerous devices for actual dangerous uses. I had employed them for various rudimentary tasks. Though a tea ball could, I supposed, be made into a weapon if it were flung with enough force.

But I needed to focus on what was happening today, not envision various scenarios involving a strong arm and excellent aim.

"The embassy said he'd be here at two o'clock," Mr. Connors said, glancing toward the enormous clock in the corner of the room. It said ten to the hour, and I relaxed a little; surely someone like the Devil would never arrive early? Punctuality had to be a positive attribute, while being tardy would correlate to the more fiendish side of things.

We were at Clarence House, one of the royal family's many houses in London. Queen Victoria had allowed the Devil to stay here, since his being in a hotel, no matter how grand it was, would cause consternation and possible actual danger to the other guests.

I'd never entered Clarence House before, what with not being related to, or needing access to, the Queen. I rather wished I'd never had to, but here I was.

It was splendidly furnished, though it seemed as though there were just a few too many items; overstuffed sofas upholstered in dainty floral fabrics sat atop luxurious Oriental and Turkish rugs, while chandeliers hung overhead. Tables were placed alongside and in front of each possible seat, so there was no chance anyone would have to look around for where to put their tea. The servants who were bustling about preparing seemed adept in dodging all the obstacles, however, so perhaps it was just me being unaccustomed to such . . . overabundance.

The night before, I'd spent several hours in our office, trying to find as much information as I could about our guest. There was shockingly little written about him. I'd seen references but only oblique ones-articles mentioning "the man from down there," which I would have assumed was a gentleman from Australia, or the "fire and brimstone creator," which sounded like a theatrical trick. In more direct references, I read things I already knew: He was leader of the underworld, he was evil incarnate, he reveled in punishing people for the wicked deeds they'd gotten up to when alive, and he apparently tolerated heat quite well.

That last was my own extrapolation, given where he lived.

The only thing that wasn't explicitly stated, but perhaps should have been, was that he was also very real.

So I was completely unprepared to meet him, but at least, I consoled myself ruefully, I wouldn't have too many preconceived notions about him. My parents had been radical in their thinking, even before the Great Revelation, and had raised me without inculcating me with a terror of what might happen to me if I did not behave according to a capricious set of rules.

Which is to say my clothes were mostly made of different fabrics, Sunday was my day for cleaning my small house, and I was often seen in public without my husband, since I didn't have one.

My parents were also responsible, in a roundabout way, for my having this position in the first place-since they'd been freethinkers, I hadn't flinched when asked if I could handle dealing with a variety of species. Apparently I was unusual among other humans.

I sometimes wished my family were alive to see this world, and this work, but both my parents had passed within a few months before the Great Revelation; I liked to think it was because they were so in love they couldn't stay on Earth without each other.

Someday, perhaps, I would have that as well.

We heard the sound of the front doors opening, and Mr. Connors and I straightened our spines (and one of us straightened a tail), standing at attention as the group made its way down the hall to the reception room.

Clarence House's butler-a third-class wizard whose specialty was cleaning spells-flung the doors open, revealing a grand entourage.

The Devil was at the head of the procession, stepping into the reception room with a haughty mien I'd only ever seen on the Queen herself. He was shorter than I would have expected, about my height, and looked like a well-to-do merchant, albeit with curled horns on his head and a long red tail dragging behind him. He wore an elegant suit of a dark-purple wool, rings on every finger, and a cane far fancier than mine in one hand. There was a faint aura of smoke around him, and I tried not to cough as he approached.

Species of all sorts poured into the room behind him, several of a type I didn't think I had ever seen before, but I didn't want to be caught gawking.

He eyed the two of us with disdain. "The Queen is not here?" he said, flicking his cane as he spoke.